


Lost & Found

by Florchis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AOS AU August, Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Immortals, Long Live Feedback Comment Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25794406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: Daisy finds in a museum a letter she is sure Trip wrote to her... two centuries ago.
Relationships: Skye | Daisy Johnson/Antoine Triplett
Comments: 16
Kudos: 23
Collections: AOS AU August 2020, Florchis does AU August





	Lost & Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheQueenInTheNorth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueenInTheNorth/gifts).



> Written for the prompt "Immortals AU" for @aosficnet2 AU August. Idea came from [this Tumblr post](https://darkmagyk.tumblr.com/post/625570053281251328/thinking-abt-immortality-and-how-meticulously)  
> If you came here to read about how/why they are immortals, sorry, this is not that kind of story. I honest to god do not know. They just are.

Of all the many things Daisy thought on her way back home, it never occurred to her that he might not be there: she just run and run and run, and now she waits, waits, and waits.

By the time he gets back, she has read the letter fifteen additional times and which each read, she had found new details that make it obvious it is about her, new metaphors to pierce through her heart, new sentimentalities to hold with care. 

“Hey, Dais, you home? I went to get takeout from-,” Trip stops abruptly in the middle of the sentence at seeing her. “Everything okay?”

While she was running back home, the only possible way for her to do this in her mind was confronting him bluntly, but with the minutes passing she realized that maybe she should be more subtle about it. Now, having him in front of her, fond eyes and vivacious smile, the words spill out of her mouth without her permission.

“I went to the museum today.”

“Oh?” Trip raises an eyebrow; she understands the surprise because that is an activity they usually do together and truth be told Daisy only went inside his favorite history museum because she was feeling like pinning harder than usual today. “Found anything interesting?”

“I did.” She leans against the doorframe of the kitchen while he starts setting the table “They are doing an exhibit on love letters from the early 19th century.” 

No other eyes would be able to perceive it, but she can see him freeze for a second and then continue pretending nothing has happened though his hands start shaking.

“Mmm? You are not the type for that.”

She could keep on poking at him until he bursts, but he has already put a seal of confirmation on her 99% suspicion, so Daisy doesn’t see any merit on that. Instead, she takes the fragile paper out of her pocket and Trip lets out an involuntary whimper.

“I think I am  _ exactly  _ the type for that, considering that you wrote this letter to me.”

Trip shakes his head in disbelief but puts a hand between him and the letter like he’d rather not come into contact with the yellowing paper. That’s fine with Daisy, who very much would love to keep this letter forever… and it’s not like she can bring it back to the museum after stealing it surreptitiously.

“It was another time, Daisy.”

She knows. She thinks back to the annoying clothes and the tedious social rules. Jemma’s laugh. The absence of the internet! So many things have changed in the last two centuries, and them more than anyone else can testify to that fact. 

“Was it another feeling?” She tries to ask it in a measured voice to not give away her own feelings: if he says it was, they can laugh out this tiny crush he had on her once upon a time. They have been through much worse together, they could get over this even if her heart breaks in the process. But if it wasn’t…

“No. No, it wasn’t.” 

The most alarming thing is that he is not smiling anymore, and Daisy can not remember the last name he didn’t have a smile on while going through something terrible or life-threatening. He must have his own ghosts- ha,  _ ghosts- _ related to this, but if he doesn’t talk to her, she can not reassure him. As much as they have come to understand each other very well while spending so many years together, she can not read his mind. Yet.

She takes the container out of his hands and places it gently on the table. Her hands skim from his wrists up to his arms, his chest and his neck to end up holding his face. His eyes are shining and for the many words they have shared during the last three centuries, Daisy does not find inside herself anything to say to him.

Since he can not speak to him with his mind, she decides to speak to him with his heart. Trip gasps when their lips collide against each other but he adapts quickly, his arms finding her waist, his head tilting to the side to allow her better access. Daisy dedicates a second of brainpower to think that now she can check off one of the very few things they haven’t done together before letting herself get lost in the kiss.

When your life doesn’t have a probable end hanging over your head, it is not hard to lose track of time a little, Daisy has found. It has happened to them before that they thought they were just having a “good time” with a book or a game or a show for them to raise their heads and discover that an entire week had passed. To go out with clothes from half a century ago because they literally forgot what year it was. To use idioms from another time without a second thought and get strange looks from people. It is not the first time they get lost on each other, either, but this time it feels different. This time it  _ is  _ different.

They don’t break the kiss while Daisy back-walks to the living room and falls on her back on the couch. She thinks for a moment that they will stop kissing, but Trip just bends himself around her and kisses her again and, okay. She can work with that.

It is already growing light outside by the time they break apart long enough for her to ask a question. His lips are swollen and his cheeks are chaffed where they touched her skin or her clothes, but in three centuries together she has never seen him this happy, and for a pretty positive, cheerful person as he is, that is saying something. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asks and punctuates the question with a kiss. She doesn’t want to let go of the charm of this new thing she can now do just yet.

Trip pushes the hair out of her eyes and Daisy has had romantic relationships in the past, but none of them reached the point of intimacy they shared even before. She had also read a shitton of romance novels and now she finally feels like she understands what the fuck they were talking about.

“I was going to when I wrote that letter, but Jemma left. I know that we both loved her a tiny bit, and we were devastated.” Daisy nods, hoping he doesn’t wallow on that grim time of their existence. “And then time passed and it was just the two of us, and not only I was in love with you, but you were the most important thing in my entire world.” There is tenderness as well as melancholy in his eyes, and Daisy holds his face again to remind him that she is here and she is not planning on going anywhere. “How do you confess to your life partner without messing up what holds your existence together?”

She understands. She came to the realization a lot later than him, sure, but she still hadn’t made up her mind about what she was going to do about it. She can imagine waiting too long and then feeling like you might have missed your window. 

“Then tell me how the letter ended in a museum,” Daisy turns around the conversation. They have had time together: they will have time to discuss it more, but now she doesn’t wanna ruin their glow by putting him in a sad mood.

“Oh, um. I donated my entire letter collection to them a couple of decades back, when we moved. I didn’t think they actually were going to use it for an exhibit. I almost forgot that one was there.”

She pokes his nose and he takes the finger in between his hands to kiss the tip. It warms her heart but doesn’t deter her from her scolding, “First rule of immortality, Trip! Keep track of your stuff so it doesn’t come back to bit you in the ass a few centuries into the future!”

He smiles at her and it takes her two seconds to realize it’s one of his borderline dangerous smiles; her realization came one second too late to prevent him from flipping them around so now his weight is fully on her. Daisy takes a deep breath, feels the way his body settles on top of her body, and almost can’t contain her glee. 

“I think we are focusing on the wrong things here: Daisy Johnson, you stole from a museum!”

She almost tells him that no, she only got back what was rightfully hers, but decides to kiss him again instead.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of LLF Comment Project, whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
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